letting go of perfect
I am a recovering perfectionist.
When I was a young girl, I loved bows. My family hated them mainly because I loved fancy dresses with bows, bows that HAD to be perfectly tied, meaning even loops, even tails. If they didn't pass my muster, I'd exclaim, "it's not right, " and pull them out. I didn't come by my nickname "princess" lightly. The nickname stuck, and so did a lot of that behavior.
For years I wore my perfectionism as a badge of honor. When I joined my local Rotary club in 2001, I heard about the perfect-attendance award and committed to earning it. For 16 years, I collected that pin. I left my club about a year ago, and the last year I was a member, I let go of needing that perfect label; about the same time, I realized many things happened to me over those 15 years that weren't perfect: my first marriage fell apart, I lost my home, I was hungover most days, I floundered, I procrastinated, I let myself down. Back then, if I couldn't make something perfect, I'd put it off, or I'd have a hard time completing things because they never felt perfect enough.
It took me some time to realize that coming through those struggles, those imperfections, made me stronger, wiser and once I realized I could fail, brush myself off, and try again. I started doing things even when I was scared: I found new love, built a marriage on friendship and vulnerability, realized the value of living within my means, bought a new home, started two businesses, sold one business, found recovery, and experienced the joy of waking up clear-headed and refreshed (and it never gets old). I realized that out of the messiness, and the sometimes brutality of life comes resilience, growth, and strength.
I used to make my family miserable cleaning the house before company came. I thought my friends and family would notice if things were out of place or if our baseboards were dusty. I would race around for eight hours, barking orders at people. They might tell you I still do that a little, but I'd say 95% of the time, I can check in with myself and question if the stress I'm putting on myself and others is necessary. I started changing by asking myself what I noticed when I went to a friend's house. You know what? Usually their warm home, their welcoming attitude, their cooked-in kitchen. If I did notice a spot on the floor or counter, you know what? That endeared them to me. That made me see that my friend was comfortable enough with me to show me all the freaking parts.
So, when I've spent 15 minutes trying to get that bowed tied these days? I try to ask, "what, who, or why am I trying to control?" Then I take a deep breath, leave the bow alone, and step into my messy, beautiful, perfectly imperfect life.
